Thin Line
by Supfan
Summary: With every slap, they smiled. With every drop of blood spilled, they felt the addiction take hold. They needed this night, it is what they lived for. Dramione. Non-DH Compliant. A bit of angst and a bit of smut.


She smiled and bled. Her swollen lip was pulsing, small waves of blood dripping down her chin. The crimson drops left permanent circles on the cold stone floor of his dungeon. The musky scent had at first made her nauseous but now she was well used to it. Carefully, she pulled herself to her feet. Draco let her stand, watching her frail body strain to support herself. This was their game.

Suddenly she lunged, dragging her nails across his face, leaving her mark. He pulled away violently, striking her across the face. Once again, she fell in a heap on the stone floor.

No one would doubt this interaction between Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy. The only thing uncharacteristic about this vicious meeting was the fact that beaming smiles were branded to both of their faces. The classic Draco smirk was still their underneath this new expression. The expression that had appeared on his face the first time he'd slapped Hermione. He didn't know what had shocked him more, the face that he'd let his anger boil to that point or that fact that her expression had mirrored his.

So they'd started this weekly ritual. Draco would sneak down to the dungeons hoping for a bloody battle with his little, weak prisoner. His parents were often at meeting with the Dark Lord, or not home for days at a time. This gave ample time to achieve his release.

Gradually, the kicking, punching and slapping had faded into more. They scratched, tore, and bit, craving every bit of pain inflicted. Few words, if any, were said. Each of them needed this night. It was one even they looked forward to all week. This brutal fight was the most intimate of moments.

Draco traced the cut on his cheek, left by her nails. He stared at the blood on his fingers, bringing the red substance to his lips, tasting copper. His eyes closed as he sampled his own blood. The fury that had been raging through him shifted. He stepped to her swiftly, picking her up from the ground by her throat, lifting her with ease.

Frantically, she pulled at his fingers, trying to suck in breath. With great strength, he shoved her against the nearest wall as she tried desperately to get a little oxygen. Hermione winced as she felt her brittle bones hit the stone. This pain…these actions, she was used to. But his eyes, the bright, silver eyes she was also used to, had changed. No longer did they glow in the darkness, like they usually did. They had darkened, like storm clouds, near blackness. The pain around her neck grew as his grip tightened.

At first, she thought he would finally finish her off. She knew this game they were playing would have to come to the big climax eventually. Maybe this was the night he'd actually kill her. Her vision began to blur as her brain slowed function. The lack of oxygen was making the darkness of the dungeon dissolve into space. Suddenly, her lungs filled as Draco released her neck, but before she could take a full breath, a rough pair of lips attached themselves to hers.

Her next move came naturally. Her arms wound around his neck, pulling at his hair as they continued to kiss. There was nothing gentle about their actions. He ripped at the rags that barely covered her body, robes that had been worn down over time in her prison. Her legs snaked around his waist as they quickly pulled Draco's robes open and let them fall to the fall to the floor. He slipped his cock into her quickly, filling her up before withdrawing suddenly, only to pound back into her.

Draco roughly pinned her wrists above her head with one of his, as he continued to thrust, releasing all of their frustration. She moaned loudly, daring to look into her enemies eyes as he fucked her. The black orbs were glued to Hermione's face. Suddenly at once, waves of pleasure shot through the both of them, and he buried his head into her hair as he rode the euphoria.

When they came down from their temporary high, Hermione seemed to realize what happened. She struck him hard across the cheek, pulling away and falling to the floor, struggling to pull her torn robes back onto her body. "Bastard…" She muttered.

"Mudblood whore…" He answered back, the smile returning to his face.

Try as she might, Hermione had to let her own grow. One of her legs blocked his exit, and as he passed, he forcefully kicked it, taking one glance back as he walked up the stairs, fixing his appearance as he went.

Hermione tried to stand, but the bruises on her body had finally begun to throb. Even though pain riddled throughout her entire body, she couldn't help but smile. Maybe, this was their _new_ game, and Hermione was more than willing to play.


End file.
